Rite of Passage
by bonnysammy
Summary: She thought she'd found what mattered, what was worth the fight. What did Bree have to lose? To gain? "Women do most delight in revenge."- NNT winner


AN:

Thanks to anyone who reads this. I wrote it for Novel Novice Twilight's Eclipse Challenge. To my surprise, it came in first.

It's Bree's last human night. I'm sure it will be nothing compared to SM's interpretation, but I though I'd try. Enjoy:

I own nothing of Twilight. I do this for fun.

* * *

Therein lies the defect of revenge: it's all in the anticipation; the thing itself is a pain, not a pleasure; at least the pain is the biggest end of it

-Mark Twain

As I opened the window, the frigid night air burst into my room, causing me to shiver. The thought that I really shouldn't be doing this briefly flashed through my mind. I could get into so much trouble. But what did I care? I was already in trouble, what was a little more? With the way my mom went off, I'd probably be grounded until my heart stopped beating anyway.

I pulled my hood over my head, and popped out of the window, reminding me of a groundhog sticking its head out of a hole. My quiet chuckle at that thought was too loud. If I couldn't keep quiet, I was going to get caught.

It was even colder than I'd thought, and I shivered at the sudden chill. Grateful for the roof that was just below my window, I climbed out and placed my feet on the dark grey shingles. They were slightly slippery from the constant damp of Northwestern Washington, and I nearly took a header off the garage. _Maybe I was right about the being grounded until my heart stopped_, I thought wryly. It was almost a bit sooner than I expected.

Even more carefully than before, I grabbed my bag from the window ledge and quietly shut the window. It wouldn't be good if I got this far only to slam the window and let my mom know I was sneaking out. She was mad enough already; I didn't need to incite a riot.

It was her damned fault, anyway. She was the one who told me I couldn't go out anymore because my grades. I mean, how far was Algebra going to get me me anyway? It's not like I was going to use this stuff when I was a fashion editor. Who cares what x is when you're deciding what color is the new black?

My mom didn't see it that way. She didn't understand that I had zero interest in Math. So I'd gotten into a huge fight with her this afternoon when she saw the D on my report card. At least I wasn't failing. She told me I couldn't go out with my friends anymore, and that I couldn't see my boyfriend at all. Like that was ever going to happen; there was no _way_ that was even an option. I loved Jim and he loved me. We were inseparable. Forever.

Since my mom was no doubt guarding my door like a bouncer outside a club—not that I'd really know; I'd never gone to a club—I was getting out the only way I could. Jim and I had planned to go out to a park in Seattle for our one year anniversary. We were going to sit on a blanket, have a picnic and watch the sun set together. It was so romantic that I thought I die from the anticipation before I even got there.

Since I had to sneak out after it was dark, the sunset part was out of the question, but I could still get my picnic and snuggling with Jim.

I walked to the edge of the roof and peered over. The ground was farther than I'd imagined. My nerves crept up on me, and I felt a little nauseous. I wouldn't let that stop me, though. I could do this.

Thankfully, the stepladder was right where I'd left it when I'd taken the trash out earlier. Mom had probably thought I was just kissing up when I'd done that—ha! She hadn't checked to see if I might sneak out. Nice.

I thought it was pretty smart to act like the good little girl while I was really planning something devious. I'd never really gotten into any real trouble before, so my mom trusted me. First mistake.

When I reached the damp ground, I knew I was home free. I barely spared the house a second glance as I snuck out into the dark veil of night, not even offering a silent goodbye. I'd always been impetuous and pigheaded; I was a kid, so there'd always be multiple chances, another tomorrow to make things right. But tonight I was going to do what I wanted, and it looked like I was going to get away with it.

I ran down the road to the car that was waiting for me, just out of sight of my parent's house.

"Hey, baby," Jim greeted when I opened the door, his brilliant blue eyes sparkled in the cabin light. "I didn't expect to get your call before. I thought they'd have you locked up like you were in jail. How'd you get out?"

"I snuck out," I answered, flinging my bag into the bag seat. "I climbed out of my window and onto the garage roof. They don't know I'm gone, so we've got all night." I flashed him my most alluring smile, and quickly fell into the car dramatically, holding the back of my hand across my forehead. After releasing a sigh, then giggling, I spoke. "We still going to Seattle?"

"Yep!"

I couldn't help the smile that took over my face. I'd actually gotten away with it. I was out of the house, without my parents' knowledge, and on the way to Seattle with my boyfriend. Sure, life would've been better if I wasn't failing math, then I wouldn't be grounded and sneaking out would have been unnecessary. But given the circumstances, this was pretty darn good.

"Safety first," I said, clicking the seat belt into the receptacle.

He laughed. "Ready now?"

"Always, baby. Always."

The drive to Seattle passed quickly. We listened to music and complained about how unfair my parents were. Jim understood me. I mean, he really got me. I was so lucky to have him in my life.

We pulled into the parking lot, the gravel crunching beneath the tires further signifying my freedom. There were almost no cars around, and we pulled over into an empty area.

"Ready for a picnic?" Jim asked. I nodded. "Let's go then. Wait there one sec." He opened the door and climbed out. I watched as he dashed in front of the car, the lone dim streetlamp illuminating his dark hair—the others were out. He appeared at my door and opened it quickly. Grabbing his outstretched hand, I squeezed it tightly as he pulled me from the car.

He pulled me into a tight nearly bone-crushing hug, and kissed my head. "The basket's in the trunk. Let me go get it, okay?" After releasing my hand, he swiftly turned away.

"Sure." I watched him walk to the back of the car. When he disappeared behind the trunk, I once again entered the car, kneeling on the seat and reaching into the back to grab my bag. By the time I'd clambered back out, Jim was waiting next to me with the basket in one hand and a blanket in the other.

"I'm sure you ate dinner," he said. "So, I only brought dessert."

"Sounds good to me," I answered, chuckling. "Where are we going?" I squinted toward the dark grounds, barely lit by the streetlamp.

"Over there," he said, pointing to a hill just on the horizon. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the darkness.

I released his hand and wrapped my left arm around his waist, his warmth enveloping me. The air had become chilly, as often happened on early spring nights, and I welcomed the comfort he provided. He put his arm across my shoulders in a gesture both protective and possessive. I knew this was where I always wanted to be.

We slowly walked across the grass and to the small hill that had been on the periphery of my sight before. As my eyes adjusted, Jim dropped the basket and placed the thick blanket on the damp ground. It hadn't rained today, but here, the grass always seemed wet somehow. I plopped my bag on a corner and put the basket Jim had brought next to it.

Once my eyes were used to the lack of light, I noticed how the beautiful bright stripes of the blanket were muted in the moonlight. The area was deserted, the only sounds our breathing and nature's symphony.

I dropped to my knees on the blanket and crawled toward the center, willing Jim to join me. When I reached the center, I sat and closed my eyes, enjoying the slight breeze and calming sound of the rustling leaves. As if he'd known my thoughts, I felt the blanket move under Jim's approaching weight.

I opened my eyes and watched him lay down beside me. I slowly lowered my torso to the ground and curled up to him, putting my cheek against his shoulder. Once again, he wrapped his arm around me. My heart fluttered at the action, beating faster.

"I love you," I whispered to him, pulling him into a hug.

"I love you, too, Bree," Jim responded. "Do you want dessert now?"

I didn't want to leave the comfort and protection of his embrace. "Not really. I'm enjoying this too much."

"Good," he said, putting his finger beneath my chin and lifting my face to his. "I'm really happy you got out tonight."

"Me too," I purred.

He rolled slightly to his side, bringing his face to mine, trailing his finger up to my jaw and then onto my ear. After opening his hand, he cupped my face in it and drew me closer. His warm breath blew against my cheek, hypnotizing me.

Suddenly, his soft lips were against mine. I gasped in response, and wrapped my hand in his hair, pulling him closer. His lips parted slightly, his tongue darting out and pressing against my bottom lip.

I couldn't help the groan that escaped my lips as my mouth instinctively responded to him and opened to allow him access. The kiss was more passionate than any we'd shared before. I wasn't sure whether the strength I felt was due to the high I was on from deliberately disobeying my parents, or because I was all alone with him in a deserted area. Either way, I was losing myself to the desire and hormones coursing through me.

I moved myself against him molding myself to him. He moaned in response.

Just as his hands eased up under the cotton of my t-shirt, I realized what we were doing. We were in a public place making out. I may have been sixteen, but I wasn't voyeuristic in any way. Even though there was nobody around, going to second where we could easily be found didn't interest me at all.

"No, Jim," I gasped, pulling away from his lips. "We can't. Not here."

"Not here?" he asked his voice disbelieving. "What do you mean?" He tried to pull me back to him, but I refused.

"No." I sat up, pulling my shirt down—it had lifted to expose my stomach. "I'm not making out with you here, in the park. Someone could find us."

"No one's around," he cajoled. "No one will find us. We're all alone." I knew he was right. We were alone, but still I didn't feel comfortable.

"I said 'no,' Jim." I wiped the stray tear that had left my eye. "I don't like doing that out here."

"But we won't get to do it at all anymore," he whined. "You won't get out until at least the summer. Then I'll be working after school ends. And in September, I go off to school. We won't see each other for a really long time…This is our last chance."

"Don't be silly," I said. "You know my parent's; they'll forget in a week, and I'll be available to go out within two. I just don't want to do this here."

He rolled his eyes and sat up. "I've had enough waiting, Bree. There are so many other girls who would be willing to do whatever I want."

That set me off. "Are you threatening me? You'll break up with me because I won't make out with you?

"It's time you made a choice," he said. "I want you… right now."

"You know I've never… done that," I whispered, embarrassed at that admission. Jim was my first real boyfriend; I'd never so much as kissed another guy. "I'm not ready for that."

"Well, I am," he groaned banging his head against the ground. "You're definitely not?"

I shook my head. "No," I mouthed.

"I think it's time to end this, then." The anger and frustration in his voice surprised me. He'd never been like this before, and it was frightening. He stood up and walked off the blanket. "I've had enough waiting. And there are so many other girls who'll give me what I want."

"You'd just take any other girl?" I asked, stung by the fact that I meant no more to him than anyone else.

"No," he said. "But I've had enough. I'm not waiting anymore. You've got to make your choice."

"I c-can't, Jim," I said, tears flowing down my face. "I'm not ready." I jumped up and rushed over, stopping just off the blanket. I grabbed his arm to turn him around. "Please look at me," I wailed.

"No, Bree, it's over." However, he did turn to face me. The look on his face was cold and distant.

"I can't believe you." I slapped him across the face with all my strength. "You're such a bastard."

"Don't act like a bitch now, Bree," he snarled. "Take it like a big girl." He reached down and grabbed the blanket, wadding it into a ball. He pushed it into his left arm and bent to grab the picnic basket. "After that, you'll need to find your own way home."

"What?" I asked, beside myself that he'd just leave me in the middle of Seattle.

"Yeah, I knew you wouldn't give me what I wanted," he explained, walking toward the car. "So I made plans to meet Amanda in about half an hour. I don't have time to drive you home."

"So what? You got me out here just to break up with me?" I asked, incensed. "Why didn't you just say something when I called. I wouldn't have snuck out and risked getting into more trouble."

"I was giving you the choice." He shrugged.

"Wait a minute," I said. "Amanda? Amanda Reed? When did you make this date with her? You knew we were supposed to go out together." Was this girl trying to steal _everything_ from me?

"After you said you were grounded." He shrugged his shoulders as we reached his car. "She called me, and I've known we were over for a while." He opened the trunk and threw the blanket and basket in. "You just made my decision easier." The venom leaking through his words shocked me. He'd never spoken to me like this. Again my tears began to fall.

"So…it's o-over. You're j-just gonna leave me here?"

"You'll be fine," he said, closing the trunk. "You have your phone, right?"

I patted my pocket. "Yes."

"All right." He opened his car door and sat in the driver's seat. "See you later."

With those words, he closed the door and left. I stood motionless in the poorly lit parking lot, watching his car drive off. After a few moments, I fell to my knees, the gravel digging through my jeans and into my skin. I was all alone, in a city I didn't know that well.

I couldn't call my mom or dad; they'd kill me if they found out where I was. I could try Beth. She was a great friend, always there for me when I needed her. But I was sure she was out with Rob; they'd been inseparable since they started dating last month. That left Melody Sanders. We hadn't been on the best terms lately, fighting because she thought I was too good for Jim. I guess she really was right and a good friend. She, at least, had my back.

I stood up again and pulled my cell from my pocket, then dialed her number. After four rings, my call went to voicemail.

"Hey, Mel. It's Bree. I'm sorry to bother you, but I really need your help. You were right; Jim really was a jerk. Anyway, please call me when you get this…on my cell. Not at home. Do _not_ call my house, please. My parents _can't_ know that I'm not there."

I closed my phone, staring at it and sighing before I returning it to my pocket. I'd let a lot of friends go since I'd started dating Jim. If I hadn't done that, I would have had so many other people to call. Stupid, stupid girl. I was so pissed at myself.

"So, you're all alone," a high-pitched female voice called from behind me. "Do you need help? A young girl like yourself really shouldn't be alone in a city like this. You never know what will find you."

"Um, yeah, I'm okay." I said, turning around to see the outline of a woman; she was in the shadows, so I really couldn't make out much of her. But what I could see made me feel uncomfortable; the way she stood, the crazy outline of her hair, they all made her appear so wild. "My friend's going to come get me." I tapped the phone in my pocket. "Thanks, anyway."

"You looked like you needed help, and I like to help when I see someone in need," she purred at me. My senses screamed that I should run and fast. "You look to young to be out here all alone. Are you still in school?"

I didn't see a problem with answering this question. "Yeah, I'm sixteen… almost seventeen. My birthday is next month. I'm a Junior."

"Do you play any sports?" she asked sweetly.

Her interest seemed odd and out of place, but still I answered. "I do. I play field hockey. I love it. It's kind of violent, but it's fun."

"Violent?" she practically giggled.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said. "But it's fun anyway."

"You find violence fun?" she pushed.

She hadn't moved any farther into the light, and that seemed strange.

"Well, I mean, I'm not sadistic or anything. I don't like to hurt people just to hurt them."

She laughed.

"It's just fun to let out a little aggression, you know?"

"Sure, it is. Are there any opponents in particular who you'd like to let out a little _aggression_ on?"

"Maybe …" I laughed. "Amanda Reed. She's a year younger than me. She nearly broke my ankle at tryouts so she could make the team. Plus, she thinks she's so hot because she gets great grades... And she's going out on a date with Jim."

"Jim? What about Jim?" she rebutted.

"Jim…" I sighed.

"What if I told you I could help you get even with both of them?" She smiled sweetly, keeping her lips tightly together. "It would be loads of fun."

"Revenge?" It sounded promising. Maybe that would be just the thing to make me feel better.

She nodded.

"How?" If nobody got really hurt, I'd probably be up for it. Just embarrass them a little.

"I'm thirsty," she said. "Why don't you come with me while I get a drink? And we can discuss revenge afterwards."

"Um…" I knew I shouldn't go. I didn't know this woman. She might try to hurt me or something.

"I'll make it worth your while," she coaxed. "If you come with me, I'll make sure that you'll _definitely_ be able to get your revenge. And maybe you can help me with mine."

"I don't know," I whispered. "I mean, sure I'd like to kill Jim right now, but I don't think I'm really a revenge type of person. I've never really done anything to hurt anyone before."

"I can fix that, too," she purred. "Just come with me, my dear."

In that moment, I knew that I would be going whether I was willing or not. Her stance let me know she wasn't going to take no for an answer. This both frightened me and seemed strangely inviting.

"I guess so," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "Um, it looks like my friend isn't going to call anyway. And it's getting a little cold, so I should go somewhere."

"Great," she said, her voice tempting. "Let's go."

"Sure." I rearranged the strap of my bag on my arm. "You said you're thirsty. Where're we going to go?"

"Just over there," she said, pointing to a cluster of trees. "I know a shortcut through the woods. We'll get where we're going much quicker if we go that way.

My nerves fluttered. Going into a hidden area with someone I didn't know, someone who was oddly threatening and appealing, was not a smart thing to do. But I'd been standing there with her in a secluded area for a while, and she hadn't done anything. Maybe it was like my mom always said, I just had a really overactive imagination. I stared at the ground, debating whether to follow. My instincts screamed to run, to get where there were other people. I ignored them.

"Let's go," I said, sounding more confident that I really was.

She smiled broadly, her white teeth reflecting the minimal light, and I nearly pulled back in fear. What was it about her teeth that were so threatening, so animalistic? Her arm lifted in a welcoming gesture, and I walked toward her. When I was next to her, she wrapped it around my shoulders. Her arm was so heavy and hard, almost as hard as a rock. It was weird.

As she held me tightly in her grasp, she sniffed my hair and groaned. Alarm bells sounded in my head. I'd clearly gotten myself into a really bad situation.

"Um…maybe I should just wait there for my friend," I said, attempting to free myself.

She would have none of that and she pulled me tighter and little painfully. She was unbelievably strong. I was going to scream, but she placed her hand over my mouth.

"We're a lot alike," she cooed. "A stupid little girl has taken both of our loves from us. And soon… we'll be even more alike."

Obviously she was ignoring my attempts at escape; this was terrifying. My eyes still hadn't adjusted when we entered the trees, and the near pitch blackness didn't help at all. Suddenly, I was pushed to the ground, a vicious snarling sound coming from above. I heard my arm crack as I landed and knew it was broken from the jabbing pain.

A sharp jab of pain pierced the side of my throat, and I tried to scream but no sound came out. All I could think about as the pain shot through me was that I'd never even gotten to see the woman, never looked into the eyes of my killer. I closed my eyes, hoping to be spared in some way. I prayed to God for him to save me.

As quickly as she'd pounced on me, I felt her weight leave. I was amazed that I wasn't dead yet. Was she going to play with me, somehow draw this out until I was begging for death?

I didn't have time to contemplate that possibility before heat began seeping into my neck, like someone had been branding me. I raised my uninjured hand to where the burning was. My neck was smooth but wet, the substance sticky in a sickening way. My stomach flipped, and I felt nauseous. I dry heaved a few times, clutching my throat and curling into a ball.

"Can you be trusted with her?" the woman asked.

"I've been fine with the others," a boy answered.

"Stay here with her for now. She won't be safe near the others for a few hours." I heard rustling near me. My arm was pulled away from my throat; the cold hand against my skin made me start retching again. "Quit whimpering. You'll be fine. You'll be able to get your revenge, and you _will _help me with mine."

My arm was dropped quickly, and the other arm, the broken arm, was lifted. The pain from that movement shot through me, briefly overpowering the heat. I screamed and flailed, trying to free myself.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the woman said, releasing my other arm.

I tried to open my eyes to catch a glimpse of her but I couldn't. The entire time, the burning in my neck had been increasing. The heat quickly changed from somewhat unpleasant to excruciating as it spread outward from the places where I'd been injured.

Once again, I ran my hand over the spots she'd hurt. She had healed my skin, but I knew she had injured me somehow before she did it.

I tried to cry for help, but either no one was around, or no one cared to help me. I began to writhe, trying to find a way to stop the fire that was consuming my neck, shoulder and arm. It quickly spread down my chest and up my arm, meeting at my heart. As soon as it hit the center of my chest, the fire increased exponentially and began radiating outward. I couldn't think clearly as I could focus on was the pain.

"Please, someone help," I wailed. No one answered.

Once the searing pain had spread through my entire body, I thought that the torture would end; I had to die soon. But I was wrong. That was only the beginning of my torment, the easiest part. Moments passed and the heat increased; I was surprised I hadn't melted away. All I wanted was to die. All I asked was for it to end. Why hadn't that woman killed me yet?

"Please kill me," I begged. "Please. Just. Kill. Me."

Still no one helped me.

I begged for death for an eternity, thrashing and screaming for the pain to end. Yet, it didn't.

I was not sure how long I'd been burning, but I began to hear sounds near me, echoing sounds, and I knew I wasn't in the trees anymore. I opened my eyes to see a blonde boy looking at me. He was older than I was, and his eyes were a weird color, red—had to be contacts.

I hoped he had answers.

"Can you help me?" I asked him. "Please." My voice sounded raspy.

He shook his head. "No. You just have to ride it out. It'll be done soon, and you'll feel better than you've ever felt before."

"What's happening?" I asked, forcing myself to concentrate on him and not the pain riddling my body. "Am I dying?"

I could see his mouth moving, but the pain was once again dominating my mind; I could only keep it at bay for so long before it took over. I wondered how I could breathe through this oppressive, constant hell.

Was that were I was? Had I died and gone to hell? I mean, sure, I'd snuck out of the house, but that couldn't have been enough to land me in hell. I wasn't a perfect kid but I wasn't that bad. It wasn't like I had killed anyone or anything. I hadn't done much worse than lying. How could I be suffering through hell?

My mind went to strange places as the burn drove me mad. I thought that maybe the boy's eyes really were red. Maybe he was the devil. Perhaps he had set me aflame just to torture me enough so that I would sell my soul to him. Maybe this was how they decided who went to heaven and who didn't.

Often, I would cry out in agony, but it didn't help. No one came to my aid, and the screaming provided no relief. I suffered in agony, hoping for it to end, praying to God to save me.

Then suddenly, I noticed a thumping sound growing increasingly fast.

"It's almost over," I heard a boy say from nearby. I could also hear the sound of others moving. I wondered where they had come from, before the pain tore through my chest, hotter than it had been before.

At that moment, the rhythmic noise picked up its pace. This worried me, though I really wasn't sure why. I didn't know what it was.

The pain in my fingers went away. It was wonderful. But with fear I realized that the fire in the center of my chest burned hotter. Slowly, I regained control of my body as the flames extinguished inch by inch. But with every bit of relief, the pain in my chest increased, scaring me more. Finally, all that remained was the blaze over my heart.

There were two strained thumps, and then silence. I was relieved to find that the burning had stopped. But I had the worst sore throat ever.

I was awake and terrified. What the hell had happened to me?

I didn't want to, but I knew I needed to gather myself.

I opened my eyes and met a new world.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this.

From Eclipse: I took it that Amanda Reed, one of the people killed, was Bree's revenge:

From Jack the Ripper to Ted Bundy, the targets of serial killings are usually connected by similarities in age, gender, race, or a combination of the three. The victims of this crime wave range in age from 15-year-old honor student Amanda Reed, to 67-year-old retired postman Omar Jenks. The linked deaths include a nearly even 18 women and 21 men. The victims are racially diverse: Caucasians, African Americans, Hispanics and Asians.


End file.
